The 69th Hunger Games
by jemodemo
Summary: What would you do if you were yeeted into a different dimension, into a world you know nothing about? Cassidy Becke is now part of the 69th hunger games. Will she arise, victorious, or will she die a horrible, gruesome death?
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One**_

Cassidy Becke has had a life. She has stolen grapefruits from a random food stand just south of Quebec and managed to convince the owner of said food stand that they were delusional and that the grapefruits were hers, she has started an entire online clothing store where the only available patterns were a bag of Old Dutch salt and vinegar kettle chips or a poorly drawn moose and made a great deal of money off of it (although she ended up losing the site in a bet gone wrong), and she has successfully jousted at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival, among other things.

She might wonder how she got in the situation she is currently in if she didn't know how she got in the situation she is currently in. But she knows exactly how she got in the situation she is currently in, so she doesn't have to wonder how she got in the situation she is currently in. Currently, the situation she is in entails her red hair being mostly shaved off and strewn on the ground, her feet tied to a plastic chair, not unlike the ones you might see in a pediatrician's office, a smashed wedding cake crumbling off the side of the wall and over the ground, and a very angry dog gnashing its teeth at her. The owner of the aforementioned very angry dog was sitting on the plastic chair, not unlike the ones you might see in a pediatrician's office, holding a very sharp knife.

We should probably rewind and walk you through the events that led to Cassidy Becke's current situation. One week prior to her current situation, she woke up as normal, refused to make her bed as normal, ate half a grapefruit and a bowl of Cheerios that was more sugar than cereal as normal, and brushed her teeth as normal. What was not normal about her morning one week ago was that she couldn't find the green sweater that she wore quite unlike a raccoon wears a bulletproof vest, in the sense that she always wore this green sweater and a raccoon never wears a bulletproof vest. It has been mentioned by various sources that raccoons are naturally bulletproof and therefore have no need for a bulletproof vest.

Cassidy searched through the entire contents of her wardrobe and her chest of drawers, under her bed that she refused to make ("The only people who should be in my bedroom are myself and people I know whom I am comfortable enough with for them to see my messy bed" she would say to anyone who asks), through the blankets and excessive amounts of pillows, and around the general vicinity of her desk, but couldn't seem to find her green sweater. The narrator wonders if it was the loss of the sweater that started this whole kerfuffle.

Realizing that she would be late for her class, she gave up looking for her sweater and sprinted through the hall, down the stairs, out the front door, and onto her green bike. She started pedaling furiously, as if she were riding that rusted green bike through the Tour de France and if she got last place, she'd have to take a bullet through her kneecap. She wouldn't have gotten last place in that race, because Avril Lavigne was on a skateboard and she got last place from stopping to sing "Complicated" to some small children who didn't speak english.

Cassidy arrived to her class in a school that the author doesn't feel like making up in a town the author has deemed entirely irrelevant to the plot of the story exactly 27 seconds late. Frankly, the class she arrived at is also entirely irrelevant to the plot of the story, but for the sake of the story, let's say this class was about writing fanfiction, as most of the people on this website, including me, would greatly benefit from such a class.

"The grammar for a story is important. I see too many people saying 'your' when they mean 'you're' and 'you're' when they mean 'your'. It's not that difficult. If you want to say 'you are', you write 'you're'. If you want to say that someone owns something, you write 'your'". Cassidy's teacher turned around as she slid into the seat. "Welcome, Cassidy. Your late. Again."

"Actually, Ms. Teacher Person, it would be 'you're late', not 'your late'. Weren't you just telling us about the differences?" Cassidy asked innocently.

"If you say something like that again, you will be known as 'the late Cassidy Becke'."

Cassidy shrugged and started picking at her nails.

"Please stop picking at my nails," asked the teacher.

_**((A/N: Review! This is my first work of fanfiction on this website so it's not that great. I stole the inspiration for Cassidy from a book I read a while back, "The Beginning Of Everything". Just a disclaimer, I guess. Yeah, but I hope you enjoy, and I could use all the reviews I can get!))**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

Now, as the immature young adult that the author is, with a disappointing lack of creativity that is genuinely uncharacteristic of them, we are going to skip through the boring school day that no one is actually that interested to hear about because the current American education system is absolutely ridiculous, considering that the only person I know who actually uses the skills they have learned in high school (the various unnecessary maths and sciences and whatnot) is my sister, whom, being the giant nerd she is, is currently attending college for engineering and biochemistry, a concerning combination. The previous sentence just further proves how inadequate the American education system is. That was an incredibly long run on sentence, I can't even say that in a single breath, which is saying something because I have an impressive lung capacity and I generally talk really fast.

It is time that we return to the story, where we see Cassidy Becke climbing into the house through the bathroom window because she has a superstition involving the front door, something about how the population expects you to use the front door and since that is considered the "normal" thing to do, she thusly cannot do it. She would prefer to try to escape the sempiternal panopticon, despite knowing how futile any and all attempts at escape would be, and therefore must climb in through the bathroom window.

She thuds to the bright orange bathroom floor, thinking to herself, "Why the fuck haven't I put a stepladder there."

"Cassidy? Is that you?" calls Cassidy's mom.

"Mom, who else enters the house through the bathroom window? You've known me for 18 years, you should be used to this by now," she groans as she lifts herself from the bathroom floor.

"Oh, well, one of your friends from your old school called asking for you, about 20 minutes ago. She said her name was Petra Vives? She sounded really nice, said she was in town. Told me to tell you to meet her at that park here in town, by that restaurant. I can give you a ride?" Cassidy's mom explained, as Cassidy was already halfway out of the bathroom window again.

"No, mom, it's okay, love you, bye!"

Petra Vives was a very boring girl. Her name makes her sound interesting, but all in all, Petra Vives was an incredibly average person. Her grades were good, but not great. She had medium length hair that could either be described as a really light brown or a really dirty blonde. Dirty blonde is an odd way to describe a color, as it implies that there is another shade of blonde called clean blonde, but nobody has ever mentioned it, so it would seem that clean blonde does not exist. Also, dirty blonde to me has always sounded like an insult, along with dishwater blonde. I prefer to say dark blonde, as that is a bit of an oxymoron and it sounds quite edgy. So, Petra could be described as having either light brown hair or dark blonde hair. She generally can be seen wearing jeans, graphic tees, a grey hoodie, and old Chuck Taylors. She has hazel eyes and fairly light skin, and is about 5'6" and about 120 pounds. Her favorite musician is Taylor Swift and her favorite movie is Sixteen Candles. She has two cats and a small dog and has moved twice, once when she was 11, shortly before she met Cassidy, and again just a couple weeks ago, when she moved to Cassidy's town.

Today, she was was sitting on a bench at the park Cassidy had agreed to meet her at, sporting a T-Shirt emblazoned with "Nice manners, babe" and her typical grey hoodie. She jumped to her feet at the sight of Cassidy walking down the road towards her.

"Cassidy! Come here! I need to show you something!" Petra called loudly, startling a murder of crows pecking at a patch of grass a few yards away. One of my friends once asked me, "If a group of crows is called a murder, then what is a single crow called?" and I just looked at them for a good three minutes before they realized that what they said was absolutely stupid.

Cassidy started jogging, completely out of breath by the time she reached Petra.

"I'm sorry for bugging you, but I found this weird thing and I'm new in town and I don't know anybody except for you so I'm asking you for help because you're smart and know things and stuff…" Petra trailed off, gesturing toward the object in her hand. It was a blue cylinder of sorts, with a rounded button at the top and a flat bottom, similar to what a sonic screwdriver would look like if you took an image of it and stretched it so that it was very wide.

"It's… okay…. Petra… Let me… see the…. Thing….." Cassidy panted.

Petra handed it over and Cassidy flopped onto the bench, inspecting it.

"Are you really that out of shape? You weren't even that far away."

"I chose… not to do sports… for a reason…."

"Oh, I guess that's fair. Anyway, would you happen to know what this is or what it does?"

"Only… one way… to… find out…" said Cassidy as she smacked the little button at the top of the contraption. Upon contact with the button, Cassidy was paralyzed. She couldn't move her arms or legs and could hardly breathe. She just held on tightly to the object, feeling as if a very strong wind was blowing at her much unlike the way that a summer breeze makes a windchime gently jingle. Her hair was flying every which way, until she came to a jarring stop, laying on the ground of what seemed like an open field. The wind was knocked out of her and she took a moment to assess what might have happened.

She was sitting on a park bench with Petra and now she's laying in some long grass. She opened her eyes and looked around. Petra was nowhere to be found. Cassidy sat up slowly, still trying to catch her breath from both the jogging and her smashing her lungs with the full force of her body into the ground. She noticed some incredibly bright lights in the distance and stood and started to walk toward them, like a moth getting trapped in the light by fixation, truly free, love it, baby, I'm talking no inflation. Cassidy shook the almost incoherent lyrics to the popular 2015 Fall Out Boy song, "Irresistible" out of her head and continued onward.

_**((A/N: Review! I know the story is kind of slow right now, and boring or whatever, but it should pick up soon. This is about the point where it gets really fun ;). Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed it thus far or something, I'm not good at this))**_


End file.
